Hope
by Becka73
Summary: Late night encounters by the old oak tree.


Hope

"Ya know, Sam, this whole brooding, sighing thing is just getting old. And I've only experienced for the last couple of days now. Really... I'm not sure how your brother has kept himself from knocking you senseless," she said, her face reflecting a perfect mix of sarcasticness and well-meaning humor.

Looking up from the ground where he had been aimlessly digging the toes of his hikers into the dry earth, Sam peers over to hisleft and contemplates whether or not he should be offended or chastised. The light from the street lamp across the way illuminates his companion into a series of softened angles and not so dark shadows as she sits next to him, swaying back and forth in the swing beside him. "That's really nice. Talk about hitting a man when he's down. I hate to break it to you, but some of us actually have both up and down times when it comes to our moods. We can't all be perky like you."

Continuing to swing, she closes her eyes and allows herself to tilt back into the motion, her long, chestnut hair practically brushing the ground on each pass. For some reason, the whole scene makes her giggle, a reminder of better days. Less worries, more time. "What can I say, Samuel? Don't mind if I call you SAMUEL do ya? Better to be happy than sad any day, I my opinion. I mean, really, what good does it do to want what you can't have, to drown in regret for things done and gone?" At hearing a sharp intake of breath and the absence of the neighboring swing's creaking, she slows her motion to rest and looks directly at Sam, for the first time that evening. "It should be a crime for folks to waste so many opportunities on stuff like that. Doesn't help anyone, but at it's worst it sure smarts like hell when you let it gain on ya too much.

Smiling, just a bit, at the young woman's drawl and her straightforward opinions, so much like Dean's, Sam can't help but agree. It seems like he's spent way too much time just this side of despair lately, and not nearly enough edging into contentment. Maybe it was time to make a change or two. Lighten his spiritual load a bit, and just... live. Breathe. Smile. "You are just a wealth of insight tonight aren't you. Been saving it all up a bit, huh?" He has to laugh at the look of indignation she flashes him, but doesn't feel to terribly bad when she follows it with a wink a second later.

"Well, seeing as how our time's almost up here, I figured it was now or never. Can't let all of this hyper- intelligent musing go to waste now can I?" she stated, quite pleased with her choice of words.

Just as he was about to make a snappy comeback, the slam of the heavy Impala door signaled a change in the mood. It was a very clear indication of how soon things would be drawing to a close, and Sam slowly hauled himself out of the swing and look over his shoulder to observe his big brother lumbering down the hill, armed with the tools of their warped little trade.

"Hey Sammy, enjoying your 'me' time? Hope you've gotten some of your issues worked out these last few days. I mean, with all these late night play dates with the moon, the stars... Weird, if I do say so," Dean questions, with his trademark smirk. Unawares, he practically decks his brother's quiet companion in the head with the shovel as he performs his antsy little dance of impatience.

"He's really is a pain in the ass, isn't he?" she asks. Ducking back just in time to miss the next pass of the shovel, barely saving her nose in the process.

"Yeah, but you learn to deal. I mean, hey, he's my brother," Sam replies, totally ignoring the look Dean gives him.

"Dude, have you been sampling a bit of the local wine or something? 'Cause I know things have been wonky lately, with the visions and all, but last I checked you weren't talking to yourself," Dean remarked, partly in humor, but partly in concern as well. Sam had been having it pretty rough over the last few months, and the whole conversing with the air thing could not be a good sign.

"Oh.. Oh, God. He can't see you!" Sam exclaimed continuing to look over at his selectively visual companion, before turning back to his brother.

"I mean, no, I'm not losing it man. It's just that... well you see..."

"What Sam's trying to say is that he's really quite sane, it's just that I'm also quite dead and he's the only person that has been able to see or hear me in about ten years. And I'll have you know that just making it possible for you to see me too is really a bitch to pull off, so let's make this snappy," their companion explains, her image wavering a bit, but quite visible to the older Winchester, at least temporarily.

"Sammy, you've been holding out on me! All this time I thought you were over here in deep thought and you were making time with 'Miss I'm Dead but It's a Good Look for Me'. I have to tell you, I'm a bit shocked that you would mislead me so. So... Anyone want to clue me in?" Dean finishes, with a flourish of hand waving and wide unbelieving eyes.

Looking up at the moon, then over at the young woman, Sam quickly begins to make his way over to the large oak tree beside the swing set, shouldering the shovel and supplies. "Dean this is Hope. Hope this is Dean. Dean she is the reason we're here. To take care of some sloppy endsher killer left behind. Hurry up will ya? We don't have much time..."

Quickly joining his brother, Dean turned to the waning light that represented his new friend Hope, and took a second to absorb the info he had just been given. Nice to know Sam wasn't getting any flakier, but annoying as hell that he didn't choose to share his newfound relationship with their current case. "Nice to meet ya, Hope. Sucks that its under these circumstances, but what can ya do? Looking forward to making it to the other side?"

Struggling to continue to project both the image and the audio, Hope whispers, "Back at ya. I wish I could have been, well, more together for this little date of ours. I'd have prettied up a bit if I'd known about the threesome." A smile flitted in and out as she struggled to hold her grasp on the now.

"OK, hole's dug, bones are in, and now all that's left is the light show. Are we ready to rumble?" Dean asks, eager to move on to more comfortable surroundings, preferably with less talking dead and more beer and chips.

"Yeah. In a minute. Hey... do ya mind giving us a minute? I'll meet you at the car," Sam all but mumbles, pleading with his eyes for Dean to just back off and give them some peace.

"Sure, Sammy. I'll just be up the hill," Dean replies, somehow understanding that this moment is important to his baby brother. And regardless of what the brat thinks, he truly does care about those things his brother holds dear. "Hope you have a smooth trip over, Hope. I hear it's nice over there," he offers, feeling lame but not wanting to ignore the impending event.

"Thanks, Dean. I'm sure it will be fine," she replies, just as Dean's view of her breaks into a thousand tiny points of light.

Leaning on the shovel and looking over at Hope, Sam offers his own small, sweet smile. He thinks he's really going to miss their late night chats in the park. "Well, I guess its time. Sorry it took us a bit to figure it all out, but..."

"Don't fret Sam! Haven't you heard a thing I've been saying?" she admonishes, rolling her eyes and running her long, graceful fingers through her hair in a gesture that is very familiar to Sam.

"Life's about more than 'sorry'. It's about the 'we did it's and the 'glad we're together's. I'm gonna be really pissed if I look down at you and you're still with the wallowing and the grumping Sam Winchester. You deserve better, and so does your brother. Don't waste a second on what didn't happen, spend them all on what will be. Trust me, you'll be happy you did."

Walking over to stand in front of her and laying a large, calloused palm on her smooth cheek, he plants a quick kiss thereto help him remember that although she wasn't really 'here' she was very, very real. "I promise to take it under consideration and to deliberate the merits of implementing your plan of action into our current employment situation," he whispers, all joking and sincerity combined. "I won't forget. Your words or you."

Smiling the smile of one totally at peace and content, she returns his kiss and moves slowly away as he tosses the match and the flames roar. "See that you don't. I waited years to say my piece to some poor soul, and I was pretty damn glad to seethat soul was you. If anyone needed a wake-up call,you were it." Laughing softly she continued away.

Turning back, one last time, she calls, "Tell Dean that it's everything people say and more. Even has some lollipops and candy canes. See ya around... And thanks." And she is gone.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Sam gathers their gear and starts up the hill. Looking back, he catches the sweet smell of vanilla, instead of fire and sulfur, and know that things are looking up from here.


End file.
